Anonymous Story: 15 Years and Counting

At the age of 5 I buried my biological father and almost lost my entire family. At the time my mother had adopted her young nieces and they had come to live with us. After my father passed away, everything went to hell. My female cousins accused my step father of molestation. He was asked to leave the house and kept away from all of us for months while they reviewed the case and set a court date. Durning this time, I was told over and over again what to say in his defense by my mother. She truly believed he was innocent. My cousins were told not to talk about it. We just cleaned and kept everything nice for when DCS came for check ins.
On the day of court my cousins were called to testify against him. They said their stories. At this time I was torn. I wanted to help my cousins who had been sisters to me for years. Then again, I had been told that my whole family would get torn apart and I would never see my mother, brother, cousins, or grandparents again. Family means everything to me especially after watching my family fall apart under the grief of my father’s death.
I was called to the stand at 5 years old to defend the very man who would turn me into his victim not even a year later. At the time he had never touched me. I thought he was a good dad.
The earliest I can remember the abuse is at the age of about 8. I wanted to be a gymnast, but I’m legally blind. So my vision posed an issue. He would wait for me to get out of the shower and tell me if I stretched my muscles while they were warm and relaxed I’d limber up quicker. However, he would never let me put my clothes on before I stretched. One day my mother came home early from work and found me walking from their bedroom with nothing but a t shirt on. She yelled at me to put more clothes on and went to the room.
A little more than a week later my mother and step father pulled me into their room.
She asked me if he watched me while I stretched. I was scared to tell her yes. He was sitting right there across from me staring at me like he’d beat me if I spoke the wrong words.
The next step they took was to coach me on what to say in case DCS got involved. I did as I was told. Later my step father pulled me aside to speak to him alone. He told me that if I ever told, everything would end for me and he’d kill himself and my hands would be covered in his blood.
As the years went by, it got worse. He started touching places that made me uncomfortable. He would tell me how beautiful I am and make me lay next to him in bed. One night he asked if he could “make me feel good.” I refused and hid in my bedroom for the next month. Until one night he came into my room and forced himself on me. He put his hands on me and in me. I layer there and cried quitely with my face covered by a quilt my grandmother had made me. When it was over he told me to get dressed and go with him to pick up my mother from work. I had to pretend I was fine sitting across the table from my mother and the man who just stole my innocence.
This went on for years. I blamed myself for not fighting harder. I should’ve jumped out of the window. I should’ve kicked and screamed. But I didn’t. I just laid there and cried.
For the past 9 years I’ve wrestled with suicide. The last year had been the worst. Every time I go home on break from college I have to see him. I endure what he does still. What makes it worse is that he’s been taken to court 3 separate times for child molestation. He’s gotten away with it 3 times with 4 girls that I know of. I defended him in court just to become his prey.
My senior year of high school my mother found a suicide note I had stashed away in case I couldn’t fight the urge to end all the pain I’m in all the time. She asked me if I really felt that way and if I still do. I told her no because I saw tears and hurt in her eyes. I knew she felt like she had failed as a mother. She asked if what I had written was true. I didn’t say anything I just cried. She told me everything would be okay and she loved me. She said if I needed help I could talk to her.
3 years later, she’s still married to him. He still corners me off while she’s at work. I still endure the torture I did all those years ago. I’ve never told anyone what happened and what still happens. I’m still afraid to. As much as I hate him, my mother loves him. I love my step grandparents, they’ve been the only grandparents I’ve known. My mother had a child with my step dad. I would destroy my little brother’s life. I would destroy my mother’s life. I would destroy my grandparent’s lives. I don’t want to end the lives of the people I love. I just want mine to be happy for once.

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